


(you need more) you need love

by owilde



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, F/F, Flirting, Open Relationships, Season/Series 04, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, at least vaguely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 20:10:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15493734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owilde/pseuds/owilde
Summary: Lee keeps coming back to the club, night after night. Never for long, never starting a conversation.Barbara has her eyes set on a goal, and she's tired of waiting around for Lee to start this game.





	(you need more) you need love

**Author's Note:**

> femslash babeyy
> 
> title taken from Pet Shop Boys' "Love etc."

Barbara’s not sure what it is, exactly, that she finds so intriguing about Lee Thompkins. Perhaps intriguing is the wrong word – she’s not intrigued anymore, she’s just dangerously curious, with a need to know everything there is to learn about Lee. Obsessed. Well, she’ll put a pin on obsessed for now. Obsessed is reserved for the kinds of things she did to and for Jim. She hasn’t been obsessed in a while now. She thinks she might want to be.

Lee’s sitting by the counter for the fifth night in a row. She’s twirling her finger around the rim of her glass, looking like she’s lost in deep thought as she stares into nothing in particular with a blank expression. She keeps coming back, only for one or two drinks at most, and leaves before Barbara has a chance to make small talk, or even try to. It’s almost like they’re playing a game, and Barbara – well, she’s very fond of games.

Tonight, Lee's lips are painted black, her lids shimmering gold in the flashing club lighting. Her dress hangs loosely from her shoulders, looking like it weighs nothing at all, like it’s just strands of dark fabric wrapped carefully around her body. Barbara wants to unwrap her, can feel her fingers itching to see, touch, taste.

She tears her eyes away before Lee can notice her staring and turns around to mix herself a drink. Being sober was never any fun, to begin with. Barbara can feel Tabitha’s eyes burning holes into her skin, but she doesn’t look up until she’s splashed the last of her cherry liquor into her glass.

Tabitha is staring, but to Barbara’s surprise, she’s also smiling, amused. “Find something you like?” She asks, casually, and lets her eyes flicker to behind Barbara, to where Lee’s sitting.

Barbara doesn’t follow her gaze. If she turns to look, she thinks she might not find it in herself to turn back again. “Maybe,” she says, sipping her drink. “Does that bother you?”

Tabitha’s eyes slide back to her. She shrugs eloquently, the leather of her shirt moving along with her shoulders like second skin. “Not really,” she says. “It’s not like we were ever exclusive, right?”

She’s right, at least mostly. There was a point in time where Barbara had wanted them to be, but there had been too many complications – Jim, Butch, and a billion of other accumulating problems that had made any kind of stability difficult, if not impossible. It had been easier to settle into just… being. And now they are in a very comfortable zone of pure _whatever_ that Barbara finds liberating, and befitting for them. She isn’t sure what Tabitha thinks of it, but clearly, she can’t be too opposed.

“Right,” Barbara agrees easily. “Well, I figured, if you get to have Butch—”

Something dark flickers across Tabitha’s face, but Barbara carries on.

“—and all _I_ get to have is to be Jim’s grapevine every once in a while, then it’s high time I make something for myself, too.”

Tabitha looks away, her posture tense and her lips pursed. “Do whatever you want,” she says. She stays silent for a few seconds, as if mulling a thought over. Then her smile returns, as wicked and natural as always. “For what it’s worth, imagine if Jim were to find out about that.”

Barbara has thought about it. The thought had slipped into her mind as soon as she’d set her eyes on Lee – a multitude of increasingly amusing ways to tell Jim, to let him know. She hasn’t settled on one yet, and besides, she’s not sure Jim would care all that much – it seems Jim’s moved on to the next freak he could get his hands on. Barbara has a bet with Tabitha that he’ll manage to fuck it up with Oswald before the month is over, but Jim tends to be full of surprises. Either way, it’ll be entertaining to witness.

“Imagine that, indeed,” Barbara says, grinning. The club music is blaring in her ears, and while she loves Tabitha to death, there’s another voice she’d rather be listening to right now. She takes a deep breath, downs the rest of her drink and bristles a little at the bitter taste. “How do I look?”

Tabitha gives her a once-over, tilting her head. “Could do with some mascara,” she says, deadpan, then smirks. “Gorgeous. You look gorgeous, as always.”

Barbara glances down at her green dress, and puffs her hair a little. “Ought to be good enough,” she says. She doesn’t know about Lee’s standards, but if she settled for Jim at his worst, they can’t possibly be too high. “Wish me luck?”

Tabitha raises her glass in a mock salute. “I wish you the _best_ of luck,” she says, and she sounds like she means at least most of it.

Barbara turns around and moves over to where Lee is. She stops opposite to her, leaning her elbows on the counter and her chin on her palms. When Lee doesn’t look up, she steals a cherry from her glass and pops it into her mouth.

Lee’s eyes tilt up towards her. She frowns. “That was mine.”

“It was,” Barbara agrees. “And then I took it.” Feeling bold, she lifts Lee’s drink and takes a sip from it before setting it back down. “How you been, Doc?”

Lee looks vaguely unamused, but she keeps her eyes on Barbara and doesn’t make a move to leave, which Barbara counts as a win. “Peachy,” she says. “The Narrows are treating me well.”

“A sentence I didn’t think I’d hear you utter in a million years,” Barbara says. “Funny how life works out, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Lee replies. Her dark lips curls into a small smile. “Funny.”

Barbara decides that looking at Lee is like looking at an open fire. She’s beautiful, warm, constantly changing – inviting, even, to some people. But she won’t let people touch her without burning a little. It’s a stark contrast to the Lee Barbara met way back when, when they had their little therapy session and before everything changed.

A lot has changed. Maybe too much. But Barbara is nothing if not adaptable.

“Do you ever wonder how we ended up here?” Barbara asks, half desperate to keep the conversation going and half curious. “You and me, in this club. We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”

Lee shrugs lazily. “Wrong choices at the wrong turns,” she says, reasonably. “A bit of nature, a bit of nurture, a lot of… happenstance.”

“A lot of Jim Gordon, too,” Barbara reminds her. “We can’t forget dear old Jim.”

“No,” Lee agrees. She doesn’t look unsettled by the mention of him, which is more than Barbara was about to give her credit for. She sips her drink. “We certainly can’t forget him.”

Barbara leans closer, eyeing Lee up and down. This close, she can see the small prickles of sweat on her forehead and neck, the smudge of her make-up in the corner of her eye. The small golden earrings that are half-hidden behind her chopped hair. The small imperfections that make her so deliciously perfect to Barbara.

And furthermore, all that’s hidden beneath her pretty little head – the dark thoughts; the memories she’d probably rather forget, some of them even to do with Barbara herself; the impulses and cravings that plague her. Because surely, she has some. Barbara’s never met anyone without some hidden desires, and especially so in case of people who’ve gone through hell and have come back laughing and bitter and so much more alive than before.

She lets her eyes settle on Lee’s. “You keep coming here,” she says, deciding to state the obvious and throw her cards on the table. “Are our drinks that damn good, or do you have another reason?”

Lee’s exterior doesn’t crack – it doesn’t do that, anymore. She smiles, indulgent, her attention fixed on Barbara, and it feels… right. “Why do I have to have a reason?” She throws back. Her drink’s forgotten on the counter, her fingers still loosely wrapped around the handle.

“You don’t _have to_ ,” Barbara says. “I just imagine you’re not the kind of person who likes to do things all willy-nilly. You think about actions and consequences. At least you used to.”

Lee shrugs, making an if-you-say-so face. “You caught me,” she admits. “I don’t usually do things for the sake of it.” Her gaze turns into something sharp, something a little hungry. “I can make exceptions.”

Barbara’s heart flutters, and her skin feels warm. Her smile doesn’t flicker, but rather deepens, as she tilts her head to consider Lee. “Is that so?” She asks. “Does your exception have a name, or can I sign above the dotted line?”

As a response, Lee digs through her purse, and pulls out a small white card, followed by a pen. She flips the card around, and writes something down, before sliding it over to Barbara across the counter. “Just in case you ever catch a break from all this management,” she says, her voice low and suave, and then she’s walking out the door, disappearing into the sea of bodies.

Barbara stares after her, the card tugged safely between her fingers.

She feels like the game has changed, and she’s not sure what the rules are.

It is _exhilarating._


End file.
